While he worked in London, she had spent her days shopping with her mother-in-law, and decorated their future home. Then came the day for moving in, and his Range Rover was packed with suitcases and boxes.
Their neighbors greeted them, "Welcome to The Woods. We are Helen and Andrew, from London and Glasgow. She's from London and I am from Glasgow, a Sassenach and a Scot! We wanted fresh air, and D&C had an opening for me."
I was surprised to see that Helen was repeatedly tugging down her jeans miniskirt. I would never have dared to wear such a short mini, I might accidentally show my knickers which could earn me la fessée from Jeremy.
"Please to meet you! We are Martine and Jeremy. Martine's French and still working on her English. I am also from London, and was detached in Paris when I met her. I am working for P&G."
Helen and Andrew invited us for coffee. We complimented them on their lovely house, and I stopped in mid-sentence when I saw a folded belt with both ends taped together, and a pair of lacy knickers on the dining room table. I didn't need the help of Sherlock Holmes to understand why Helen was tugging down her mini. She had that belt applied to her bare derriere, and was still without her petite culotte.
The coffee was great and Andrew suggested, "Next weekend we'll have lunch. Helen will prepare British and Scottish specialties."
Jeremy thanked them, "With pleasure! We'll bring a bottle of Champagne for aperitif. Martine's father gave us quite a few."
Back home, we opened our boxes and suitcases. "Martine, don't forget to hang your martinet behind the kitchen's door."
"Oui mon cheri."
Maman had given him my schoolgirl martinet and advised, "She isn't made of sugar. Good bare bottom whippings will keep her on the straight and narrow. Without it she wouldn't have got her baccalaureate!"
I was quite surprised by his request, as he had never used it. I mused, did he see that folded belt and pair of knickers on the dining room table of our new neighbors? I didn't dare question him, and my old martinet joined the cooking aprons behind the kitchen door.
I had defiantly laughed when Maman gave it to him. I was sure that he would never use it. I tested Jeremy with various misdemeanors, they infuriated him. Maman, of course, told him to give me la fessée au martinet. He didn't, and I gave Mom a teasing and triumphant smile.
I didn't tell her that some of my nagging had him occasionally giving me a few stingy hand smacks. I couldn't help instinctively wriggling my bum as if to invite him to add a few more. He would call me a naughty girl, and we enthusiastically had duos of Ahs and Ohs echoed by the creaky old bed of his parents' spare bedroom.
After having unpacked, he asked for lunch, and I only had an embarrassed, "Oops!" to offer. "I forgot the cool box at your parents." Just then, as if to save me from a well deserved spanking, the front door's bell rang. I ran to open it. I greeted Helen. She was carrying an oven dish with both hands, and couldn't tug down her miniskirt. I saw a vividly red belt stripe barely hidden by her mini. She announced. "With Andrew, we have guessed that you wouldn't have time to cook with all the unpacking."
She had brought us an old fashioned meat loaf with baked potatoes. We warmly thanked her, and Jeremy added. "Naughty Martine forgot the cool box at my parents!" Having said that he pointed to his knees in a manner that left no doubt, I was to bend over his lap for a spanking. I saw that Helen had understood, as she blushed as red as me. She was about to leave, but Jeremy offered her a drink.
Then he grabbed one of my wrists, and pulled me onto his lap. I reached for the floor to avoid falling. He raised my dress, and lowered my knickers. I pleaded, "Cheri, s'il te plait, pas la fessée cul nu devant Helen !"
He ignored my plea, and I got a severe spanking. He also smacked my thighs, and I couldn't help pedaling my legs. It was like the fessées Papa had given me. I blushed to my ears as I imagined the show I was giving to Helen.
He helped me up, and I was red face in front of Helen. I gingerly pulled up my knickers over my burning nates. I repeatedly rubbed my stingy bottom and thighs as I saw her out, and again thanked her for the meat loaf.
After lunch, Jeremy carried me to our bedroom, and we energetically tested the new bed. It didn't creak.
Martine and Helen
To be continued...
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